A Surprise Meeting
by ImagineThis22
Summary: John goes out for a walk only to be followed by the one, the only, Jim Moriarty. What will become of their meeting? *A/N: JohnXMoriarty.* *I don't own any of the characters...I wish I did...but I don't :/*


_**MY FIRST EVER "SHERLOCK" FIC. I USUALLY WRITE FOR ELEMENTARY (ANOTHER TAKE ON SHERLOCK AND WATSON), BUT I'VE DECIDED TO TRY MY HAND AT BBC's VERSION! I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY JOHN/MORIARTY FIC!**_

It was a chilly November morning in London, snow threatening to fall, and John had bundled up, grabbed a thermos filled to the brim with rich, creamy hot cocoa –courtesy of Ms. Hudson- and set out for a walk. He had never liked the cold as a child, but now, with the streets empty of passerby's, it was almost peaceful.

John took a seat on the rickety park bench and sipped his hot cocoa. He hadn't walked far, only reaching the small park before giving into his chilled, aching bones. He watched a few cabs go by, their drivers eager to find a fair. John savored the near silence, only low hums from the scarce cabs creating a sort of white noise effect. He never got to experience silence like this living in 221B. Sherlock was always droning on and on about something, whether it be completely idiotic insults, useless information, or experimental theories of…_what_? _Relativity, was it_? Never mind _what_ it was. The fact is it was _never_ silent. Not even for a second.

John's phone beeped, alerting him to a text. He fished his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, suddenly feeling the blood drain from his already pale face.

_You look lonely…_

John looked around and found no one in his near vicinity. His attention was brought back by the sound of another beep…another anonymous text.

_Johnny boy._

John nearly dropped his phone onto the cement in terror. The nickname…only one person had ever called him by that nickname…_Jim_ _Moriarty_.

"Did I frighten you?" A high-pitched voice sang from behind him. Moriarty emerged from his hiding place behind a large oak and smirked at the army doctor, his back still turned to the consulting criminal.

John turned and growled. "What in the _bloody Hell_ do you want, Moriarty?"

Moriarty sniggered. "I just was taking my usual stroll and came across your lonely figure on a bench."

John narrowed his eyes. "In other words, you were _following_ me."

Jim stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Tomato tomahto. You call it one thing, but I call it another."

John rolled his eyes. "I believe I asked you what you wanted, did I not?"

Jim smirked. "I believe the question is, what do _you_ want? I could've gone unnoticed for hours, following you everywhere, but I could see what you wanted…just by the look on your face."

John turned his back to the man and grunted. "So, tell me. You think you know me so well, go ahead and tell me. What do I want?"

"Someone to talk to." Moriarty appeared beside him. He eyed the seat beside John and John slid over, allowing the mastermind to sit down.

John laughed. "Oh, really? Because to tell you the truth, Mr. Moriarty, I was actually quite enjoying the silence."

"Jim."

John's eyes darted to the man beside him, thoroughly confused on how they were now on a 'first name' basis. The look on his face must've read his response because Moriarty continued.

"'Moriarty' or 'Mr. Moriarty' make me sound _old_ and _boring_." His voice tapered a few pitches lower at the end of the sentence, showing off his 'can't-be-serious-for-too-long' personality.

"I'll keep that in mind." John replied, staring straight forward and watching a young female enter a cab.

"Tara Young. Born April 18th, 1989 to a Violet and Danny Young at five-thirty-eight in the afternoon, in Chicago, Illinois. Her mother, a violinist, her father, an artist. Constantly pressured to grow into a fine arts sort of career field, but she followed her heart, didn't let anyone hold her back. Young Tara has started her dream career as a teacher, starting as a substitute, soon being promoted to a full-time teacher as of last year. She teaches Mathematics, FST to be more exact. A lovely teacher, truly skilled in the art of being able to reign in rowdy children. Her parents don't see it that way, though. They have broken all contact with her, their disappointment the main reason. But young Tara hasn't let that stop her from pursuing her dream of becoming a superintendent. A job transfer brought her to London, a great opportunity for young Tara. More job promotions, only a few to go before achieving her dream job. Sad, really." Moriarty spoke, his voice wavering as though he were an actor and his director had told him to make it 'more interesting'.

John was speechless at how much Moriarty knew about a random woman, but remained that way for only a moment before regaining his composure. "How is it sad?"

Suddenly, a shot rang out and the woman fell forward in the cab, never giving the full address of where she was going to the cabbie.

The cabbie jumped back in his driver's seat and hopped out onto the street. "Help! Someone call for a bus!" Another shot rang out and the cabbie hit the ground, blood staining the street.

Moriarty chuckled beside a dumbstruck John.

"What the _Hell_ did they do to deserve _that_?" John spat at Jim.

Jim leaned in and smiled wickedly.

John didn't back off, he knew he had to stand his ground and not give away how uncomfortable he felt with Moriarty's face just inches from his.

"As I've said before, John, it's what people do. They _die_. It's best not to dwell on it." He retreated back to his side and stood, adjusting his suit as he stood up –it _was_ Westwood after all.

John sat up from the bench, ignoring the thermos that tumbled to the ground and spilled, creating a brown puddle by their feet. "But she had her whole life ahead of her! Why did_ she_ need to die? Why not someone else?" John surprised himself with his choice of words. Had he really just suggested it should've been someone else to die?

Jim seemed just as surprised. "Why, John, I believe you are becoming more and more like Sherlock every day. Sentiment is becoming less apparent with you. You didn't even _mention_ the cabbie dying…"

John glared at him with all the intensity his small frame could muster. It seemed to do the trick because Jim had move slightly away from him.

Jim tried to hide the surprise and slight terror behind an evil smile. "Oh, Johnny boy. You cease to amaze me. You seem like an easy target, but behind that adorableness is a fierce, not-to-be-messed-with soldier."

John's frown twitched. Did the mastermind just call him adorable?

Jim closed the gap between them and snickered at John's reaction to the sudden closeness.

The doctors nostrils flared, his eyes widened, pulse quickened…he was showing all the signs of fear.

"Have I told you how cute you are when you're scared?" Jim licked his lips and flicked his gaze between John's lips and his sparkling blue eyes.

John scowled. "Have I told _you_ how much you disgust me?"

Jim hummed in pleasure. "There's that defensive side I love so very much."

John squinted his eyes and searched the criminal's dark eyes for emotion. "You're enjoying this."

"Isn't that obvious?" Jim smiled, a spark igniting in his unusually dark eyes.

John rolled his eyes and began to stride away from the man in the suit.

"_Ah, ah, ah_, Johnny boy. Where do you think _you're_ going?" Jim grabbed his arm and yanked John towards him.

John tripped and fell into Moriarty's arms, immediately thrusting his hands against Jim's chest and tumbling backwards from the masterminds grip.

"Getting a little hands-y there, aren't we, Johnny boy?" He taunted. "We'll save the foreplay for later, love."

John got his footing and immediately poised himself in a way to seem hostile. "Do _not_ call me 'Johnny boy'."

Moriarty took a step towards him. "I've been calling you by your pet name this whole time, my dear. How come it's only starting to annoy you now? Is it because I'm getting under your skin? _Or_ is it because it's becoming increasingly difficult for you to hide your feelings?" He smirked.

"What feelings?" John took a step back.

Jim giggled. "Oh, honey. You're innocence is absolutely irresistible!"

John clenched his fists. How many different pet names was Moriarty going to call him? "I don't have any feelings for you, Jim."

"I never said you did, _John_." Moriarty retorted.

John's lips pressed into a thin line. "We're done here." He turned to leave.

"He really does have you on a short leash, doesn't he?"

"Who does?" He couldn't help but ask, turning back towards Jim, his feet staying glued to his spot.

"Sherlock, sweetie. You just can't wait to get back to your _precious_ Sherlock!" Jim scowled.

John laughed. "You're jealous."

Jim grinned. "How could I not be? Sherlock gets to be with you twenty-four-seven. I only get to see your pretty face on rare occasions."

"I hope that doesn't mean you'll be showing up more often." John crossed his arms and set all his weight on one foot, the other placed lazily in front of him.

Jim laughed at John's response. "Oh, John. If only you weren't with Sherlock, we could have so much fun."

John put his arms down at his sides and balanced his weight on both feet, squaring his shoulders toward Moriarty. "Who says I'm _with_ Sherlock?" John smirked.

Moriarty grinned. "Just what I wanted to hear."

…

Jim pushed John against the wall and began to apply light kisses against the doctor's collar bone, lightly biting and nipping John's skin, this action producing slight gasps and moans from John.

"You know this is crazy…" John gasped as Moriarty nipped along his jawline.

Moriarty spoke against John's skin, "What is?" His lips traveled up to John's and he pressed them hard against the doctors.

"Me, you, _us_…and the fact that you have just _killed_ two people…" John murmured against the consulting criminals lips.

Jim sighed. "Oh, _please_. Like you really cared anyway."

John pulled away and looked into his eyes. "How can you not feel anything for her? She's _dead_, Jim."

Jim rolled his eyes and groaned. "And so is the cabbie. So what? Isn't there something _Sherlock_ always says? Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side?" Jim placed his lips back on Johns and let his hands explore the army doctor's athletic frame.

John hummed in response.

"Then let's not be on the losing side, John." Jim pressed his lips to Johns once more and maneuvered him over to the king-sized bed. He thrust John down on the bed and gazed down at him.

John smirked. "You _do_ know that you just took advice from your arch-enemy, right?"

Moriarty rolled his eyes and crawled on top of John. "Just shut up and kiss me."

John did as he was told.

_**MY FAVORITE PAIRING IS SHERLOCK AND JOHN, BUT MORIARTY AND JOHN ARE JUST AS CUTE LOL:)**_

_**PLEASE FAVORITE, FOLLOW, AND REVIEW!**_

_**P.S. IF YOU ARE A FAN OF ELEMENTARY AS WELL, FEEL FREE TO CHECK OUT MY ELEMENTARY FIC'S. I ALSO HAVE WRITTEN A CROSSOVER BETWEEN BBC SHERLOCK AND ELEMENTARY CALLED 'GRAVEYARD VISITOR'. THE SECOND CHAPTER OF THAT FIC WILL BE POSTED REALLY SOON :)**_

_**THANKS AND DONT FORGET TO REVIEW ... -DOWN THERE!**_


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